


Shooting Star

by pleasure_to_burn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: I'm not sure what to tag but okay, Pre-Canon, i guess, semi-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:38:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2597300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasure_to_burn/pseuds/pleasure_to_burn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel makes his choice, for better or worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shooting Star

**Author's Note:**

> So this little fic came about because I couldn't get the last line of this Bradbury out of head and it served as the driving focus of it. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading

Shooting Star

            “Look at how chubby he is! He’s a little potato,” Gabriel exclaims.

 

            “Enough of your jests Gabriel, this is a momentous occasion. Can you be serious for a moment,” Michael chides.

 

            “I fail to see how the birth of one of these mud monkeys means we have to strike up the entire choir,” Balthazar snarks.

 

            “Our Father’s plan is finally falling into place, my brothers and sisters. The child you see before you is called Dean Winchester and he is the one chosen as my vessel for the final Judgment,” Michael pronounces solemnly.

           

            A collective hush falls over the crowd of heavenly hosts gathered to witness the occasion. They were all aware that eventually the human world would end so that those righteous souls would find eternal peace while the wicked would be damned in hell till the end of time, yet the news that Judgment was fast approaching deeply shocked them. They each began to chatter away, discussing what the future may hold for them now that the Father’s final plan had been revealed.

 

           Eventually all of the clamor dies down, and the angels begin to return to their daily duties as the excitement wears thin until only one angel remains. Cautiously, a young angel with jet black wings approaches the ledge where his brothers and sisters had stood to look upon the face of the child that had been chosen for this heralded fate. As the angel leans his head over the edge, he is overwhelmed by the sheer brilliance of the soul that lies within the young child. He is mesmerized by the swirling streams of gold and silver light that seem to flow through the baby as he safely sleeping in his mother’s arms. The ever-changing light seems to illuminate the pair in an ethereal glow, although neither individual seems to notice these breathtaking luminosities swirling around them.

 

            “His soul is a thing of pure beauty, is it not Castiel?”

 

            Castiel startles at the sudden sound, and quickly turns around to see a pensive Michael standing right in front of his face. He starts to panic, knowing full well that he had forgone his daily duties for a glimpse at the child and that Michael will not take kindly to his egoistic indiscretions.

 

            “Michael, I’m sorr-,” Castiel begins to stutter in apology but he is quickly cut off by a wave of a hand of the other angel.

 

            “Dear brother, there is nothing to apologize for. I understand your natural curiosity towards young Dean; Father has outdone himself with his creations with this child,” Michael says with a soft smile gracing his face.

 

            “You are quite right, Michael. There is nothing that I have seen that compare to his radiance,” Castiel replies with a soft sigh.

            “Alright little one, today’s work must still be done before the day is out. Time to get back to your tasks,” Michael reminds him gently.

 

            “Yes sir.” Castiel spreads his inky black wings towards the sky and takes to the air.

__________________________

 

            For the next few weeks, Castiel cannot think of anything other than that child whose soul had so transfixed him. Each time he closed his eyes, the swirling patterns of Dean’s soul danced before him like captured streams of sunlight and moonbeams interwoven in a celestial dance for all eternity. This made his task of keeping Heaven’s library orderly even more taxing as it was already impeccable and left Castiel too much leisure time to be distracted. While Castiel continued meticulously filing the long-forgotten literature, he began to wonder what kind of person Dean would become; he whiled away the hours imaging that beautiful infant budding into a brave, righteous man would help lead the world to its salvation.

            And every night after the books were carefully organized and everything was in its place, Castiel would fly as fast as his wings would take him to the ledge that overlooked the earth and cast his eyes towards the child that had so quickly captured his mind. Dean seemed to growing more and more lovely with each day that passed. He would sit for hours in wonderment simply gazing at the ever-changing patterns within the child’s soul, just watching the simmering golds and deep reds weave together in an endless dance. Each time the young infant’s parents would interact with their precious newborn, his soul would light up in a manner that made the many galaxies pale in comparison; these moments were Castiel’s favorite and he treasured each instant he spent watching this chosen family.

            Before his very eyes, the young infant grows into an exuberant toddler intent on causing mayhem wherever he travels, much to his parent’s chagrin. Castiel would watch in utter amusement at the sheer amount of chaos this one child could manage to get himself into when he escaped the watchful eyes of his parents. With wobbly steps, he would chase the neighbor’s cat that somehow always end up in their yard, learning through experience that pulling a cat’s tail leads to a very unhappy feline. For the first time, Castiel fought the urge to swoop down and heal the child’s cuts; he knew it was forbidden to interfere, but the impulse stirred within him. On the nights when Dean startled awake from a nightmare, Castiel could only watch as his mother would gather him into her arms and sing softly until he was safely in dreamland once again. For the most part, Castiel was content to watch from his perch tucked away in the recesses of heaven, but in moments like these he longed to be the one to comfort and care for this righteous child.

 

___________________________

           

     Not long after Dean’s third birthday, a murmur swept through the heavenly hosts which left groups of angels divided. As Castiel lands outside the library, he finds Michael and Gabriel huddled together in a small alcove discussing what seems to be a heated matter in hushed whispers. Intrigued, Castiel approaches the pair unseen and listens in on their conversation.

 

     “So the news is true then?” Gabriel hisses.

 

     “I went to confirm it for myself this morning, it is happening just as Father foretold. Mary Winchester will have a second son that will eventually be host to Lucifer and have his own role to play in the final Judgement,” Michael gravely announces.

 

     “Well what does this mean Mikey? We know that now you and our dearest brother get to have your grudge match of the ages, but where does that leave them?”

 

     “Everything is already decided brother; those that have lived a just life will be rewarded and those that have embraced sin will reap the consequences of their actions. You know in your heart that this is the only way to give the humans the paradise our Father promised them.”

 

     “I guess I see your point…it still blows that these two brothers get fried just so you and dearest Lucie can fight it out,” Gabriel gripes.

 

     “I agree, it is a shame. I was beginning to be rather fond of the little Winchester, it certainly is a travesty that his soul must be lost in the process of saving everyone else’s. Anyway, I have other matters to attend to,” Michael states and then exits in a flurry of wing beats.

 

            Castiel can’t seem to process what he has overheard; he knew that Dean had a great destiny before him but he had no idea of the sacrifice he unknowingly will have to make for the world. The memories dance before his eyes of each moment he spent watching Dean and the Winchester family, the familiar glow of love and happiness washing over him yet again. He can’t allow this suffering to be inflicted on them; he just can’t stand by and simply observe. He needs to know what kind of person Dean will become, what he is like when he wakes up in the morning, how he interacts with children, whether he will be grumpy as he ages like other humans…and he never know the answers if he doesn’t act now. With his mind made up, he unfurls his wings and flies to behold Dean one last time.

 

            He stands on the same ledge where he had so often watched humanity, and looked down upon the rolling plains of Kansas where a rambunctious toddler Dean was playing to his hearts abandon while his father watched from a distance. The thought that this innocent child would be shattered just so he could play the part of the pawn in his Father’s plan was more than he could bear. He can’t allow himself to stand by any longer.

 

            The sudden sound of wings behind him startles him out of his deliberation.

 

            “Castiel, stop please!” Michael pleads with him. “You don’t know what you are doing, brother. You have no idea how this will alter the future, don’t do this!”

 

            “I have to do this Michael, it’s the only way to save him,” Castiel begs. “I hope that you will see that in time. Good bye brother.”

 

He tears inwards towards his grace, and pulls with all his strength. Excruciating pain floods every inch of his body as he screamed out in agony. A swirling light rushes from his chest and suddenly explodes. With his last conscious thoughts, Castiel casts his mind towards earth and spread his wings wide for the last time.

____________________________

 

            It was the sound of tiny footsteps scurrying down the stairs that seemed to hang in the thick, humid summer air that awoke Mary. She had always been a light sleeper but even more so since Dean was born; she had to protect her precious man from all that she knew was out there in the dark. Slowly, she followed the foot fall down the staircase and into the small backyard.

 

“Dean! Get back in the house this instant young man,” Mary calls from the back porch. She looks to see her little one lying down in the soft grass of the backyard, gazing up at the night sky in awe. Above them the stars and galaxies spiral onward.

 

            “Look momma, a shooting star!”

 

            Mary looks up just in time to see the blinding light go darting across the sky, unlike anything she’s seen before. It seems to light up the entire night sky for just a moment, then seems to crash into the earth itself. After a moment, she looks down at her fragile, perfect, little boy who is still staring in wide-eyed wonder at the sky above him.

 

As a little girl, her mother had taught her that wishes made on shooting stars were to be taken seriously and to focus on what was important to her. The two of them would spend hours laying out under the stars on nights when they couldn’t sleep and attach their hopes and dreams to the stars that would blaze across the sky. “ _I hope that angels will always be looking out for him_ ,” she quickly pleads.

 

            “Alright little man, time for bed.”


End file.
